


Embargo

by doublejoint



Category: One Piece
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint
Summary: It feels good to be wanted.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Embargo

The rain spatters the footbridge above them, the sound like grease from a frying pan. It could let up as soon and as sudden as it had come, back to the nowhere from which it had arrived, but it could also stay above them, sitting heavy on the sky. Zoro’s not sure which it will be, though selfishly he hopes for something closer to the latter--not indefinite, though it won’t hurt them to walk the rest of the way back to the submarine in a downpour like this if they have to, but something to give him a few extra moments alone with Law, in a strange place where no one can grab them away.

Law takes off his hat, smoothing over his hair over with the side of his hand before putting it back on, then dropping his hand to his side. The rainwater runs in streams down the curbs, collected from gutters and the middle of the bow-bent streets, and those from the sky. Zoro rests his right hand on Kitetsu’s hilt, and takes Law’s again with his left. Law, as if pulled, draws a little closer. He looks at Zoro, carefully, as if looking for something, his eyes stopping for several seconds on Zoro’s fingers on the hilt and then moving again, unstuck as honey down the side of a jar. He’s being really obvious, but why shouldn’t he be? It feels good to be wanted, to know Law’s feeling just as selfish and greedy as he is, that despite having all this space around them, not being forced on top of each other inside an overcrowded submarine, that they still drift together like tangled seaweed in the vast depths of the ocean. (And it’s not that Law doesn’t know, or that Zoro wants to hide anything from him.)

The rain intensifies, the stove burner turned up again, and the wind shifts, splattering their boots with ricocheted raindrops from the ground. Neither of them steps back, though the hems of Law’s pants are beginning to soak. Zoro looks back at Law’s face, his barest hint of a smile. They can look at each other anytime. Now, though, is as good as any, better than most, even if it’s better than most for anything else, in the shadow of the clouds, Law’s boots on the wet ground, his arm curled around his sword, its hilt resting against his far shoulder. Zoro lifts his hand to Law’s face, tracing under Law’s lip with his thumb. (There’s no embargo on doing this at any other time, either, but he’d rather not be cramming it into a tiny timeslot when they’re both awake and uninterrupted.) 

And then, sweeping as a wave toward them, the rain slows and lets up, as sudden as it had come, just when Zoro shifts his weight to his toes. He stands on them anyway, as bright sunlight streaks across the cloud cover, to let Law kiss him before they go.

They’re halfway to the submarine, Law pulling Zoro away from a turn around a corner he’s sure is correct, when the rain returns, and they’re drenched before they get back.

* * *

Law’s hat is still hanging to dry when they eat dinner, an hour or so after leaving the town. It had been, as they’d hoped, a place where they could stretch their legs, stock up on supplies, and remain inconspicuous. Normally, Zoro would call that a little too boring, but normally Luffy would be with them and make sure they were the most conspicuous, and that guy would probably make a fool of himself, but--right now Zoro’s trying not to think about it. He tugs on his frontmost earring. None of this is normal; they wouldn’t even need to act like anything other than themselves in the first place. But it had given him time to sneak away with Law, so even if it’s strange he can’t complain about it. 

The way Law holds his glass is like the way he holds a sword. There’s nothing overtly similar about the positions of his fingers, but it’s the same sort of grip, comfortably loose but tight enough to not let go, his palms and knuckles curved, his thumb on the rim. His hair still looks damp, and were they closer, Zoro could reach out and touch it. (They’d bump elbows, but they still should have sat next to each other.) Law’s eyes flicker back to Zoro, and his gaze then holds steady.

* * *

Zoro wakes earlier than usual in the morning. The drone of the engine through the walls is fixed in his ears by now, helpful to fall asleep with but also still sometimes helpful in jarring him from a dream, lifting him out like a suddenly-realized weight. 

He needs to train; he needs to lift all of what they’ve got here, and they were supposed to discuss the plans again sometime today, too. No matter; they’ll know where to find him. Zoro sits on the edge of the bed, and the drone washes over him again, like a wave rolling in harder and higher than expected, like the rain’s return the day before. Law’s face is pressed into the pillow, so it’s easier again to imagine as yesterday, Law looking at him, eyes keen--Law with rain dripping from his hair and beard and nose, his mouth wet, clothes stuck to him as if by gravity or thousands of miniature magnets. 

The top of his chest is uncovered, the spokes at the top of his tattoo sticking out, like inky lashes of rain on his skin. Like flames on a gas stove. Law sleeps too lightly and too little for Zoro to let himself touch them now, but--later. Law’s shoulder twitches, but he doesn’t move, still deep in sleep. Zoro stays at the edge of the bed, looking, a few seconds longer, as the sea-filtered rays of light from the porthole pass over Law, and the rest of the room, again.

They can’t be far from Wano now--maybe it will be raining when they land.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
